On the First Day of Christmas
by dancinglemur
Summary: TFA Sometimes Starscream’s little quirks unnerve even Megatron; and when he upsets his 2IC, revenge is for once subtle yet completely effective. Perhaps Starscream really HAS gotten the upper hand this time


**On The First Day of Christmas My True Love Gave to Me…) AU TF: Animated Sometimes Starscream's little quirks unnerve even Megatron, and when he upsets his 2IC, revenge is (for once) subtle yet completely effective. Perhaps Starscream **_**has **_**gotten the upper hand this time. **

**A/N: **Merry Christmas Oni-Gil! Here is the Starscream-one-upping-Megatron as promised! It's an AU sort of TF: Animated in how all the Decepticons are in the base at once (including Soundwave and Blackarachnia) and, also as promised, included there are hints and not-so-subtle hints of Megatron x Starscream. This was spawned from a bunny on the TF farm. Originally it was: _Secretly Starscream collects all the toys the humans make of him__**. **_

Also, a note to those who have me on Author Alert for either my Avatar or Van Helsing stories: I'm sorry to disappoint you. This story is about giant robots, not bald kids who control the elements, or monster hunters. Sorry to get your hopes up.

**Warnings: **Explicit and not-so-explicit hints of mechxmech relationships, so if you believe that the TFs have genders then this means that THERE ARE GAY ROBOTS. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED. Also, there is an excessive use of parenthesis and italics because Starscream sort of took over and wrote this for himself, and we all know how he emphasizes weird syllables/words and tends to leave important details out when he's talking.

* * *

Starscream hated Earth. Hated how flat it was, hated all that dirt and dust that always, _inevitably_ got into _every possible_ joint and crevice and took _forever _to clean out, hated the always-changing weather (the planet didn't even have the decency to keep the same temperature and weather patterns! It had been pleasantly cool and dry only a short while ago, but now it was disgustingly _cold _and there was weird, fluffy-looking white stuff all over the place that froze his joints and melted into water that rusted his finish), and hated how the disgustingly thick air was filthy with more than just that disgusting dirt. Honestly, how much crap did the humans have to pump into their air before they realized that it was killing their world? (Not that he _cared_, but couldn't they at least wait to poison themselves and their planet until _after _they destroyed the Autobots, stripped the planet for all its convertible energy, packed up and left for Cybertron?)

And the _humans. _The worst part of this putrid little planet was the _humans. _They were small, they were stupid, they were squishy and organic, they were annoying, they secreted odd fluids, and they were _disgusting _and _repulsive._

But… they weren't completely useless. _Mostly_ useless, but not completely.

This was never more apparent then when he got a package from Swindle. The Combaticon was slimy, fast-talking, and completely untrustable, but even Starscream had to admit that the buisnessmech was good at what he did.

And if the tan mech gave him an odd look as he handed over the small box, what of it? Starscream certainly paid him enough to secure these items. The least Swindle could do was to not look at him like that. As weird habits and kinks among the Decepticons went, Starscream's was not the strangest by far.

Grinning a darkly anticipatory grin that had Blitzwing giving him and odd/wary look and quickly backing back down the corridor he'd been about to come out of, Starscream strode quickly back to his quarters, prize clutched eagerly in his talons.

He quickly made it to the set of caves he'd claimed for his own, and made sure that his door was tightly closed before ripping into his box to lay optics on what he'd paid Swindle so generously to acquire.

Grinning widely as he reached into the remains of the box, shuffling aside the bubbly packaging material humans wrapped their merchandise in for transport; Starscream gently clasped the tiny item in his claws and lifted it up to optic-level. He examined it thoroughly, looking at it from every possible angle and scrutinizing it closely for several long minutes before he was satisfied. His grin stretching even farther, he carefully placed the small figure of himself down on a shelf, surrounded by the many other models and remakes (all of himself, of course) he had collected over the time they'd been here on this planet.

The humans were repulsive and inferior and disgusting, yes, but at least they knew a gorgeous 'bot like himself when they saw one. He preened happily as he overlooked his little army, chirping low in his vocalizer in a sort of purr as his optics roved over the multiple replicas of himself, over the different colors and designs and altmodes and versions, his engine rumbling contentedly deep down in his frame.

Given his legendary narcissism and ego (not to mention his penchant for making clones of himself (and bringing them to life with Allspark shards, but that was neither here nor there)), was it really surprising that Starscream obsessively collected every figurine of himself that he could get his claws on or pay Swindle to hunt down for him?

It was not in the least bit surprising, least of all to Megatron, who had had to put up with his Second in Command's attitude, self-centeredness, amazingly overblown ego, narcissism, delusions of grandeur, assassination/takeover attempts, and over all annoying insufferable-ness for longer then he could remember now.

It still didn't stop Starscream's mini-me collection from creeping the slag out of him.

While Starscream didn't exactly _flaunt _his little fetish, it was hard to hide these sorts of things (an army of plastic mini-me clones was rather noticeable, especially in these sparse Earth quarters) from one's leader, especially when said leader occasionally shared your berth with you.

The first time Megatron had walked into Starscream's rooms and seen them, he had immediately stopped moving, causing the Seeker following close behind him to slam into his back. While Starscream started screeching at him about warning a mech before he planted his wide aft right in front of them, Megatron stared at the little group (there had only been three of them at the time) of Starscreams with a vague sort of abject horror.

"What…" He said slowly, his voice low and growling and dangerous and apprehensive in a way that only a mech that had known him as long as Starscream had could catch. "Are _those_?"

"If you would _move aside _so that I could actually _see around you_, oh wise and glorious leader, I would tell you." The snark and sarcasm (along with that extra bit of aft-kissing just in case Megatron took offense to anything he had just said) was reflexive, slipping out before Starscream had even fully processed what his leader had said. Then, "What's what?"

Megatron shifted aside enough to let his second peer around him. Starscream's narrowed red optics, slits against the ever-present gloom, scanned the room, and his handsome face twisted into a scowl when he noticed nothing out of place in his quarters. "_What _is _what_, oh _wise and glorious leader_?" He snapped, the praising titles now mocking. "Have you finally gone senile? Seeing things that aren't there?"

Megatron growled low in his chest and quickly snatched one of Starscream's wide, sweeping wings, yanking him harshly around himself with a pained, surprised yelp on the part of the smaller mech, and shoved his face into the shelf with the tiny figurines on it. "What. Are. _Those._" He hissed, loathing and slight apprehension noticeable in his voice. It was not a question.

Starscream stared at the tiny figurines in front of his olfactory sensors with crossed optics, shutting them off and then reactivating them in a blink as he tried to make sense of his leader and lover's sudden aggression.

"…My… figurines?" He guessed meekly, not wanting to say anything that would set of Megatron's temper and at the same time wincing at how …_girly_ that word sounded. _Note to self: find a more manly word for figurine. _

"I – what?" Megatron was completely derailed by the Seeker's reply. He had not expected that answer.

"Figurines. You know, tiny little models of us that the humans make." Starscream supplied. He shifted awkwardly from where Megatron still had his face shoved into the shelf. The bulky little red white and blue figurine (the first one he'd gotten) stared back at him; it's dark face smirking up at him with his own grin.

Megatron gave a small noise that was somewhere between a grunt a growl and a snarl of disgust, and shoved Starscream so that he skidded all the way into and across the shelf on his front and upset the three models, before turning and stomping from the room.

It hadn't taken Starscream long to figure out that the mini-me's unnerved his leader, and in no time at all he was placing them in conspicuous spots all over his rooms, just to freak Megatron out every time the warlord entered the flyer's quarters. Soon Megatron was refusing to interface in any of the Seeker's rooms where the figurines were visible, staring down on them. But Starscream (wisely) had not (yet) exploited this weakness, knowing that if he did so without the proper provocation, Megatron's retribution would be slow, painful, and would likely involve the destruction of his collection. And that would not do. It had been a pain in the aft to collect as many as he had, and several of his pieces weren't all that common. Replacing them would be bothersome and time-consuming, not to mention expensive. (Swindle lived up to his name when it came to haggling prices.)

So the figurines had stayed in his quarters, all arranged so that when you entered you were immediately under the accusing, mocking stare of at least a hundred little plastic Starscreams. The rest of the crew's reactions to this had been varied.

Blackarachnia had given him an odd look but said nothing, handed over the datapad report she owed him, turned on her heel and walked right back out. Scrapper, too, had given him an odd look, but whatever he might have said had been overruled by Mixmaster's loud exclamation of that Starscream must have been _really _hard up to need little dolls instead of a real mech. (To which Starscream had retorted that he _wasn't _so lonely that he was turning to inanimate objects –unlike the two construction vehicles, he was sure to add in snidely-, that Mixmaster had the processing power of a rock, and that they were _figurines, _not dolls. And then he had summarily kicked (read: bodily thrown/blasted) the Constructicons out of his quarters.)

Blitzwing's reactions had varied (inevitable, given his three personalities): Hothead had pronounced them "creepy as slag" and tried to blast them to smithereens before Icy had flipped over and had merely said "…" and allowed Random to take over and coo excitedly over them and ask where _he _could get one of _him._

And Lugnut… no one really knew what Lugnut did in his spare time. He certainly never came poking around Starscream's quarters.

Soundwave had showed up on his own without even bothering to fabricate some reason for being there and had demanded to see them. Once Starscream had finally let him in, he had tilted his head to the side, his visor gleaming with an eerie sort of greedy light that put Starscream more on edge then he already was (He didn't like Soundwave, and Soundwave didn't exactly hold that much love for himeither) and had asked in his usual melodic monotone if it was possible to bring robots that small to life. Starscream had replied that he didn't know, and had quickly ushered the blue mech out of his room before the other tried to steal any of his figurines.

As for the original clones, their reactions varied as well. The egomaniac (who had recently announced that he wanted to be called "Thundercracker" from now on because he was sick of being called "that blue Starscream" and he was so much _better _than the original that he deserved his own, cooler, name) had taken one long look and followed Blackarachina's example, exiting the room as quickly as dignity and pride allowed.

The coward (who had also recently announced that he wanted his own name, though he did it in a much more meek manner, cowering near the door in case he needed to run for it while he mumbled to his twiddling claws that he wanted to be called "Skywarp" now) had just stood there and fidgeted, not really sure what to say, perhaps a bit unnerved by his creator's affinity for surrounding himself with versions of himself (both living and not.) Then Thundercracker had snapped for him to hurry up and Skywarp had squeaked and quickly teleported out of the room to follow his brother.

The second version of the suck-up aft-kisser aspect of Starscream's personality (he had not yet chosen a name for himself) hadn't even skipped a beat before going into a tangent on how his mighty, generous Creator clearly had superior taste and was clearly a genius and a cultured mech for collecting the figurines. Then the Liar (who had also not yet renamed himself) had started going on about how it had been _his _idea to collect the figurines first, and that all of the ones there were actually _his, _not the original's. Then he had started backtracking and saying that he had never said any of that at all when the original had snapped back that they were _his, _and hands off.

His female clone had looked at them closely, and then up at her Creator/brother with a shrewd look and said "You'd think Thundercracker'd be all over this sort of thing." She picked up a blue figurine that held a remarkable resemblance to the egomaniac. "He hasn't got your narcissism, but with that over-inflated ego of his you'd think he wouldn't mind being worshiped by humans through small plastic toys."

Starscream snatched the mini-me back and snarled, "They are _figurines, _not _toys _or _dolls. FIGURINES. _Honestly, anyone with half a processor should be able to figure that out. "

The female-him gave him an amused look, but when it became apparent that the original had nothing more to say to her beyond glowering at her from across the room where he was perched protectively over his hoard, she chuckled to herself and left.

* * *

Starscream's little quirk was soon accepted and disregarded as normal by the rest of the Earth-bound Decepticons. Primus knew the Air Commander had enough of them already; what was a little thing like collecting dolls? (Starscream had to _frequently _((and loudly)) remind the rest of the crew that they were _figurines, _not _dolls,_ but he got so flustered over it that they started doing it just to set him off.) Plus, there were so many other things wrong with the lot of them that doll collecting was a relatively minor thing. Blitzwing held conversations with himself and liked to dance; Blackarachnia was half organic and wasn't above randomly creeping up on the others and knocking them unconscious and stealing their respective powers; Lugnut was an obsessive stalker fanatic, enough said; Shockwave enjoyed role-playing as an Autobot; the Constructicons had a fetish for pretty cars, sentient or not; Soundwave was creepy and frequently brought home human-made robots and spent days locked up in his quarters "modifying" them in a fashion not unlike what Lockdown did with his bounties; and the clones… well the clones were _special. _The only relatively normal one of them all was Megatron, and that was only if you disregarded the fact that it was his goal in life to take over and enslave the known universe.

So, in the grand scheme of things, what _was _a little quirk like collecting miniature plastic versions of oneself? Plus, by now everyone knew that their glorious leader found the dolls (_"FIGURINES!!!"_) creepy as the Pit and was now refusing to enter Starscream's quarters altogether, and every single one of them (except for Lugnut …and no one could really ever tell what Soundwave was thinking) thought it was the most hilarious thing since, well, um… well it was pretty fragging funny and Earth was _boring, _and drifting around in space before they got to Earth had been _boring, _so none of them (Lugnut again excluded) were particularly inclined to step in on this issue and were perfectly happy to sit back and watch things play out. Starscream himself hadn't pushed his leader's dislike of the figurines yet, but this was _Starscream_, so it was only a matter of time.

That time passed sooner then they all had thought, and in no time at all their leader and his Second in Command were in the middle of a fight that had already resulted in the breaking of their main viewscreen, the complete destruction of half of Megatron's quarters, the mental scarring of Skywarp, the near-loss of Starscream's right wing, and an almost-successful attempt on Starscream's part at removing their leader's head from his shoulders with some sort of blunt object. (The Constructicons, who were (sadly) the closest things they had to medics, had announced that they suspected it had been a datapad, at which Blitzwing's Random face had twirled around and suddenly announced "Starscream! In ze Command Room! Vith a datapad!" And then he'd started cackling to himself, and no one else had gotten the joke.)

Megatron and Starscream had already blown right past the "Rage" and the "Bodily Harm" parts of their near-daily arguments, which meant (in a normal argument over the stupidity of whatever Starscream had just done or insults on the Second in Command's part about Megatron's competence and worth as leader) that next would come the "Pleading" (that being done by Starscream) and then the "Aft-Kissing" (also by Starscream) and then they would make up by beating each other to slag again. Well, it was possible that all that racket they made (bodies crashing into things, said things breaking, Starscream wailing like a banshee at the top of his vocalizer) was a great deal _more _then just them beating the slag out of each other, but none of the other Decepticons were really very interested in finding out if it _was_ anything more than that, and just exactly what that "more" was. In fact, they (Lugnut excluded once again) had _no interest whatsoever _in looking too closely at what their superior officers did, together or not, in their spare time.

But this was not a normal argument, and even the beating he'd taken had not dissipated Starscream's indignant rage at whatever Megatron had done this time (more likely what he _himself_ had done and thus had made Megatron do in retaliation) and he was still angrily sulking about the base, moodily lashing out at who or whatever crossed his path.

After he had completely dismantled the latest of Soundwave's "pets" for the third time, the rest of the crew decided that something had to be done about this. It wasn't often that they willingly cooperated on anything that they weren't ordered to do, but this was an exception. Starscream was still ticked off at Megatron, and Megatron's already legendarily short temper had grown even shorter as the days wore on and Starscream still showed no signs of repenting or giving in, and Megatron would be damned if he gave in before Starscream did. The rest of the Decepticons quickly realized the situation as deteriorating into a struggle of wills and stubbornness, and knew that something had to be done before everything got even worse then it already was, and resigned themselves to working together to fix things between their leaders.

But as it turned out, they didn't have to anything at all. Starscream had gone off and done something (he wasn't telling and no one else knew) all on his own and was now walking around, suspiciously mellow and happy. He walked into the Command Room, smiling in a soft, contented manner that held no ire, malice, or any of its customary darkness. It wasn't even a smirk. It was a _smile_. An honest-to-Primus _smile_. It immediately alerted everyone else that something was _wrong_. That Starscream had gone and _done_ something that would be coming around to bite everyone in the aft soon enough.

Megatron spent the entirety of Starscream's shift trying to stare a hole in the back of his head figuring out what the sneaky Seeker was up to. Starscream had gone about his duties all innocently, still smiling that creepily peacefully innocent smile, and had merely bowed to their leader at the end of his shift before quietly walking out without even so much as a snarky comment or untoward look.

Blackarachnia and the female Starscream looked at each other with slack mouths.

"Did I just zee vhat I think I zaw?" Blitzwing's Icy face asked incredulously.

"If you mean Starscream going about his duties perfectly innocently –_too _innocently- without even one wayward comment or action," Megatron growled from his throne, reminding them all of his unhappy presence. "Then yes, you did." He stared after his Second in Command, an angry, suspicious glower on his face. "He's up to something," He said, mostly to himself. "But what?"

No one else had an answer for him, and Megatron brooded in the uneasy silence that Starscream had left in his wake.

* * *

Later, once her shift had ended, Blackarachnia hurried after the Air Commander.

"I know you're up to something." She announced, shifting her weight to one hip and crossing her arms over her chest as she scowled up at where the mech in question was lazily flying circles in the air a short distance above her head. Starscream transformed and landed before her, his expression carefully schooled to cover up any gloating smugness with a too-perfect innocence. He put one hand over his chest plates and continued to look suspiciously innocent.

"Who, me?" He asked, and the mask slipped to show the smug little self-satisfied smirk. "I am insulted that you would think that, Blackarachnia."

She just narrowed her eyes at him, spider-legs shifting menacingly. Starscream eyed them warily and shifted backwards a little more to make sure he was out of their range. Blackarachnia noticed this and smirked, sauntering forwards with a carefully calculated enticing swing added to her hips. Starscream's optics were inevitably drawn down and he would have gulped and flushed red if he'd been human.

"Don't you want to tell me what _brilliant _plan you have concocted?" She purred, sidling right up to him and tapping her claws on the glass of his cockpit. Gagging inside, she continued to play up his ego. "You should have seen Megatron after you left. He was completely unsettled by your unusual behavior. He knows you're up to something, but he has no idea what it is and it is driving him _crazy._" The last three words were a drawn-out purr right into his audio and she felt him grin right next to her face.

"Very well then," He purred back, obviously humming inside at the news of how he'd unsettled their leader. "I _suppose _I can tell you…" then he suddenly shoved her back, making her stumble and fall to her aft in the snow. She looked up, ready to snarl and hiss at him, only to stop as she found herself staring down the business end of one of his null rays. "But tell anyone else and _I will make you wish you'd never crawled out of the organic cesspool that spawned you._" The weapon powered down and he offered her an open hand up, smiling nastily. "Do I make myself clear?"

Blackarachnia stared up at him accusingly, but her curiosity drove her to accept his hand and let him help her to her feet. "Crystal clear, flyboy." She hissed softly.

He released her hand and smirked down at her, crossing his arms over his chest and radiating smugness. "Tell me, Blackarachnia, what do you know of the human tradition of Christmas?"

She shuttered her optics at him, completely confused. "Nothing, but I thought you were going to tell me what your plan for revenge on Megatron is, not give me a lecture on human holidays."

He continued to smirk. "All in good time, all in due time. Christmas is a holiday held around the shortest light cycle of the season and it involves the giving of …_gifts._" His nasty grin continued to widen until Blackarachnia was sure that it would crack his faceplates. "In particular, they have a song about the giving of an _increasing number_ of gifts over the twelve days that make up this holiday."

Blackarachnia was very unimpressed, and she gave him an incredulous look to show it. "_That's_ your plan? Giving Megatron _gifts_?" She couldn't help but feel disappointed. Normally, Starscream's attempts at revenge were more interesting and held more potential for exploding (both figuratively and literally) in his face. "That's pathetic." She told him flatly. "Instead of trying to take his head off again or shooting him in the back or something interesting like that, you're going to _give him presents? _Oh, I'm sure that will have him on his _knees _…with laughter, that is." She snorted and turned to walk back into the underground base. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that you're the Suck-Up repainted, not the Original Starscream."

She laughed and ducked inside the cave quickly as Starscream's null rays discharged and exploded on the rock over her head. "YOU'LL SEE!!" Starscream shrieked angrily after her. "BY THE TIME THESE TWELVE DAYS ARE OVER, MEGATRON WILL BE _BEGGING_ ME FOR MERCY!!"

* * *

Disappointment aside, Blackarachnia decided against telling Megatron what Starscream was up to. She told the female Starscream (the two of them had formed a sort of companionship over the fact that they were not only the only female Decepticons on Earth, but also that they seemed to be the only ones of the group who had any sort of common sense whatsoever) but she, too, had agreed that it would be more interesting to sit back and watch Starscream's "plan" unfold.

The first of Starscream's twelve days of revenge rolled around, and as far as the two femmes could see, nothing was different. Starscream was still suspiciously smug and trying to cover it up with an innocence that no one was buying, Megatron was still glowering at him, trying to figure out what he was up to, and the rest of the crew was still walking on tacks trying to both figure out what Starscream was up to and trying to stay out of Megatron's way in case the warlord's patience finally snapped and he just decided to beat Starscream to scrap anyways.

Starscream strolled into the Command Room (which Blitzwing's Random face had attempted to decorate for the holidays by uprooting nearly half the forest and placing the trees at random spots around the base) just like he had for the previous two days, still acting overly innocent even though by now he _had _to know that no one was buying it. The only thing out of place was the song he was softly singing to himself. The Air Commander's voice was not exactly pleasant, and soon his soft but still screechy rendition of the song was looping in the others' processors. He finished with the twelfth day and became silent, much to the relief of the other Decepticons. Then he started again. "On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…" He warbled to himself.

"Starscream…" He shut up at Megatron's warning rumble, only grinning widely instead of shooting back a barbed insult like he normally did. He completed his duties thoroughly and without complaint, and left with a smarmy grin and a bow to Megatron.

The squeal of protesting metal followed him out as Megatron's grip tightened on the arms of his throne, gouging deep furrows into the dark purple metal. The others in the room eyed him warily from the corners of their optics as he threw himself to his feet and began to pace angrily around the room, muttering to himself as he tried to figure out what Starscream was up to this time.

When it became apparent that he wasn't going to just turn and randomly start beating any of them, the others relaxed marginally and turned most of their attentions back to their respective tasks, still keeping watch on their leader just in case.

That's when Skywarp walked in to take Starscream's spot. He crept into the room, looking about ready to bolt when he saw the dark mood Megatron was in, but somehow found enough courage to creep by him and huddle fearfully in front of the console Starscream had been working at.

When he finally turned his optics to the screen, his surprised squawk drew the others' attention to the small item Starscream had apparently left behind for them to find.

"What is it, Skywarp?" Megatron growled. Skywarp looked over his shoulder at Megatron and flinched, then turned back to the thing he now held tenderly between two claws like it was going to attack him and flinched again.

"I…ah…um…" He hedged, trembling as his wide, nervous optics twitched from Megatron to the thing he held, to the door, and back to Megatron again.

"_Skywarp…_"

"It'safigurineofyouPLEASEDON'TKILLME!!" He threw the thing in Megatron's direction and teleported out of the room. They distantly heard the sounds of a transformation and a jet streaking off somewhere to hide.

Very, very slowly, Megatron bent and picked up the thing Skywarp had thrown at him in fear. It was tiny, even by human standards, and it took him a while to maneuver it between his forefinger and his thumb so that he could hold it up to his optic-level in order to see it better.

Once he did he became still, appearing to freeze into a statue as he stared with an unreadable expression at the thing he held. Then his whole upper body recoiled back from the thing, his mouth opening in a silent cry of what appeared to be horrified disgust, and he threw the thing into the wall across the room and then blasted it with his cannon and stormed out of the room, roaring Starscream's name in a way that usually didn't bode well for the Seeker.

The Decepticons remaining in the Command Room looked at each other with bewildered expressions. What had just happened?

The female Starscream left her post and moved over to where their leader had scorched the wall black with his fusion cannon. She bent over and picked up a tiny object. Megatron had apparently missed the thing he'd tried to destroy.

The clone stared down at the thing resting in her open palm, and then she threw her head back and started to laugh. "He's got sparkplugs, I'll give him that!" She cackled, now grinning savagely down at the tiny, soot-covered figurine in the likeness of their leader. She showed it to Blackarachnia, who also began to grin.

The next eleven days were going to be _very _interesting.

* * *

Starscream, it seemed, had gotten smart. No matter how hard Megatron looked (and he looked _very _hard), the traitorous Second in Command was nowhere to be found.

As could have been predicted, this did nothing for Megatron's already foul mood, and the rest of the Decepticons sullenly agreed that the next time Starscream showed his face around here they were going to get him back for all the pain, fear, and annoyance they'd had to suffer through at their leader's hands because of him and his doll fetish.

Their resolve on this matter only intensified when then next morning they were all awakened from recharge by another one of Megatron's furious roars and not one but _two_ retorts of a fusion cannon firing.

They rushed towards Megatron's quarters, only to see their leader storming down the hallway roaring about reinstating that bounty on Starscream's head.

"Vhat happened?" Blitzwing's Icy face asked as they clustered around the smoking remains of Megatron's personal quarters, not daring to go inside but still curious as to what had happened.

Thundercracker had quickly coerced Skywarp into going in there and finding out, and the fearful clone had teleported in and out of there as quickly as he could, looking like he was about to spring another oil leak any second. When he reappeared, he was gingerly holding two melted Megatron-figurines in his hands.

Starscream had apparently snuck back into base the night before and left them for Megatron to find.

Obviously, Megatron had not found this very amusing.

Megatron made his calls, furiously demanding that Lockdown come back to Earth _now _and track down the wayward Seeker. Unfortunately, Lockdown said rather insincerely, he was several star systems away on the trail of another mark, and even if he packed up and left right that instant (something he made very clear was _not _going to happen) it would be several months before he would get to Earth and by then Starscream's revenge would be over.

"You're a grown mech, ain't cha?" He asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. "If he's following the pattern of that screwy song he was singin', then it's just twelve solar cycles to go, and only ten're left now that the first two've passed. I woulda thought you could handle ten solar cycles of that crazy afthead's antics, Megatron." And with that last unhelpful piece of advice he had ended his transmission.

"Well zat vas rather rude," Blitzwing said to himself over in the corner. The screech of Megatron's grinding dental plates echoed across the Command Room and the others quickly made themselves scarce.

But Megatron seemed to take Lockdown's words to spark. It was only ten more days, he reasoned to himself. What was the worst that could happen?

That was the wrong thing to think.

* * *

Day three rolled around and when midday had come and gone without the appearance of any figurines, the Decepticons foolishly allowed themselves to relax. It wasn't uncommon for Starscream to lose his nerve halfway through an occasion where he defied his leader; perhaps he had, to use a human term, chickened out and given up on his petty revenge.

Megatron had started the day out warily, on the lookout for the slightest sign of silver-white plastic, but when there had been no sign of any figurines he had stopped obsessively examining everything he came in contact with. He still examined everything, just not obsessively.

He walked into his still-singed quarters and grabbed a barrel of oil from his private stash, settling down to review his plans for the spacebridge in peace while he refueled.

Something was niggling at the back of his processor, some alarm going off at some unseen cause. Megatron shifted and frowned at his datapad, unable to concentrate. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to be able to concentrate on his plotting until he figured out what was bothering him, he put down his oil and his datapad and began to meticulously inspect the room.

He found nothing that shouldn't have been there, and he didn't know if that fact reassured him or put him even more on edge. With Starscream, you could never be too careful, though, so perhaps his being more alert was a good thing…

He picked up his oil and began to drink from it again, still contemplating where his Second could be hiding…

Absentmindedly, he happened to glance down at his oil canister – and promptly spat out the mouthful he'd just consumed. With revulsion and horror he stared down at the metal canister, to where the three tiny plastic renderings of himself were welded spread eagled to the container.

He threw the thing away from him and kicked over his chair with an angry growl. This had to stop. This was _going to stop._ Only three days and already he'd had enough of those creepy little human-made _things. _

He made as to storm out of his room, intent on going straight to the Command Room and sending out a transmission to where Starscream was likely hiding on the moon, demanding that this foolishness stop _immediately._

Then he stopped, midstride, on his way out the door. Slowly he put his foot down, thinking. If he called Starscream now, the Seeker would interpret it as his giving in. He would see it as a victory for himself, and then he would be insufferably smug for a _very long time_, and no matter how many times Megatron beat him to scrap for any slight (real, imagined, or exaggerated), he would not lose that insufferably self-satisfied smugness.

Megatron _refused _to let Starscream win this. It was _not _going to happen. He _would _outlast Starscream in this. He was going to _win_, Primus damn it. He was going to _win _and then he was going to _grind Starscream's face in the fact that he, Megatron, had triumphed over him once again. _Nothing put Starscream back in his place like a good humiliation or failed assassination/coup/takeover attempt, and he had been needing to remind Starscream that just because they were occasionally interface partners did _not _give him any extra privileges or entitle him to the ability to announce himself leader in Megatron's absence. Especially if that absence was only to leave the base to look for an Allspark shard.

All he had to do, Megatron reflected, was outlast Starscream. He refused to give in first, and it _was _only nine more solar cycles now. When he didn't react, Starscream would get frustrated and reveal himself prematurely and then, oh and _then _Megatron would show his wayward Second in Command what came of challenging one's leader like this.

* * *

Day Four of Starscream's revenge, and somehow over the night, there was a Megatron mini-me welded above the doors leading to the Command Room, Megatron's quarters, and the two main entrances in and out of the base.

Megatron had ordered the Seeker clones to remove them, but had been seen giving all doorways he passed through wary looks for the rest of the cycle.

* * *

Day Five. Megatron noticed something in the middle of Lugnut's back staring at him. There was one on Blitzwing, too, and on Blackarachnia and Soundwave. The four went around on their duties, seemingly unaware of the fact that each of them had a tiny Megatron figurine magnetized to their back, staring at the original from four different parts of the room.

Finally he could take no more of the empty, soulless, unforgiving stares of the mini-me's and he stomped over to Lugnut and ripped the thing right off of his back (ignoring the cyclops's pained howl) and crushed it in his hand. He then did the same to the other three and then, relieved and content now that the Primus damned _things_ were gone, turned to return to his throne.

A strange sort of choking noise came from behind him, and he turned his head to see all four of his soldiers (Soundwave excluded because he didn't exactly have a visible face) staring at him with odd, torn expressions on their faceplates. If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn that Blitzwing's Icy face was trying very hard not to laugh.

"What?" He growled.

"My lord-" Lugnut, looking and sounding very upset, started only to be cut off by Blackarachnia's sudden outburst of cackling and Blitzwing's losing control to his Random face, which started to cackle madly as well.

"_What?" _He snarled, but that only set the two laughing Decepticons off harder and soon they were leaning on each other as they laughed themselves sick. He refused to look closer to see if that shaking Soundwave was doing was his way of laughing. Lugnut still looked very upset.

"Mighty Megatron," He huffed, "On your back…"

A sense of dread dawned on Megatron and his optics flared crimson in rage, lighting up the dim room. "_Get. It. __**Off**__." _He ordered Lugnut, his tone brooking no hesitance in doing so. He felt Lugnut's clumsy pincers scrabbling at his back and then a sudden twist of pain as the heavily magnetized _thing _was pulled off. He turned, and Lugnut mutely offered him the now slightly crushed figurine.

"…Mighty Megatron?" Lugnut asked, uneasy when his lord did nothing more than glower hatefully at the thing he held awkwardly in his claws.

"Destroy it." Megatron snarled. "How you do so, I do not care; just so long as it ceases to exist."

He stormed out of the room, the sound of the femme and the triplechanger's laughter echoing in his audios.

* * *

Day Six, and Megatron onlined reflecting that he hated life. No, scratch that, he hated his conniving, sneaky, backstabbing, traitorous Second in Command, who (it seemed) was unable to _just let something go _and also seemed to be able to bypass every single security measure they'd set up in their new base. And they'd set up a lot.

But that hadn't stopped Starscream, oh no it had not. Because Starscream had once again snuck in and placed his creepy little mini-me's in their base. In Megatron's _personal quarters _no less.

But if they had been sitting on his shelves or on his desk or even welded to the ceiling, that wouldn't have been as bad as what Starscream had done.

He had snuck into their base, into Megatron's rooms, and had put his figurines _on Megatron's chest. _He had even had the audacity to arrange them so that their little miniature fusion cannons were pointing him in the face. There were six of them (and Megatron belatedly realized that there was a relation between what number day it was and the number of dolls Starscream left behind for him to find.)

He refrained from roaring his displeasure and blasting the damned things. He sat up abruptly, scattering them, and took great pleasure in crushing them individually beneath his feet.

Only six more solar cycles, he reminded himself. Only six more. He could do it. He would outlast Starscream.

* * *

Prowl was gaping. It was rather undignified, yes, and normally he wouldn't be caught deactivated doing it, but he couldn't help himself.

It wasn't every day you found the Second in Command of all Decepticons hiding in a fifty foot tall Christmas tree, after all.

But the weird part was, Starscream didn't seem to be doing anything destructive, evil, or even remotely conniving. He was just… sitting there, perched in the tree like some sort of weird, metallic imitation of an Earth bird.

If he had been anyone else on their crew, Prowl reflected, perhaps with the exclusion of Optimus, he would take this opportunity to attack one of their greatest enemies while he had his guard down. But he was not Bulkhead, he was not Ratchet, and he was _definitely _not Bumblebee, so he decided to figure out what Starscream was up to before attacking or alerting the rest of his team.

He dropped down to silently perch on a branch a short ways above the Seeker's head, purposefully making enough noise to announce his presence to the other.

Starscream's head tilted slightly and he eyed Prowl out of the corner of one optic.

"Autobot," He greeted evenly. Prowl was unnerved by the lack of scorn or mocking in his voice.

"Starscream," Prowl returned. "What are you doing?"

"I am sitting in this tree. I thought you ninjabot types were supposed to be _observant_."

Prowl scowled. "You know what I meant, Starscream. We caught Megatron's transmission five days ago. What have you done to make him threaten your life –or lack thereof- _this _time?"

Starscream threw him a half-sparked scowl, but its impact was lessened greatly by the smug grin on his faceplates.

"Oh, nothing much," He smirked. "All _I _have done is embraced the local tradition of gift giving. It's not _my _fault if Megatron does not hold the same appreciation for the twelve days of Christmas as the squishies and myself currently do."

Prowl gave him a long, slightly incredulous look.

"Oh, cool your engine, Autobot. I'm not going to start wrecking havoc on anything."

"Forgive me if I don't accept your words at face value. You _are _a Decepticon."

"I'm hurt, Autobot. Judging me by my faction?"

"The root word of Decepticon is deception. As you yourself have proved many times over."

Starscream grinned. "I can see why Lockdown likes you so much, Autobot." He laughed at the way Prowl stiffened at the mention of the bounty hunter's name. "Nevertheless, you have my word that I will not purposefully harm any humans until these twelve days are up."

"Which brings up back to my original point: You are a Decepticon. I have no guarantee that you will keep your word."

"You needn't worry, Autobot. I am too busy making Megatron pay to bother with you Autobots and your organics." And with that, Starscream shook himself out of the tree, picking a rather sizable bough out of his elbow joint as he did, and took off into the night, transforming and disappearing into the cloudbank.

Prowl stared after him, reflecting that he would never understand Decepticon logic. Or maybe just never Starscream. But then again, he doubted that _anyone _understood Starscream.

* * *

"The Autobots want to what?" The female Starscream asked, confused. She hadn't been online for very long, but she was pretty sure that this sort of thing wasn't very common.

"What is it with glitched mechs and giving gifts?" Blackarachnia grumbled to herself. She wasn't very happy right now.

The Autobots had contacted them and requested to meet at least one of them in a neutral area in the city, saying that they had a present for them. Megatron had nominated the two females to be the ones to pick it up, and the techno-organic was decidedly Not Happy at being forced to see Optimus Prime again.

The two were currently taking their time walking in their bipedal forms towards the city center where they had (grudgingly) agreed to meet the Autobots.

They arrived a good hour and a half late, and the waiting Autobots were clearly getting impatient. They got to their feet when the femmes landed on the ground before them, but were clearly surprised to see the two of them. Apparently they had been expecting one of the others.

"Elita…" Optimus started in that sad, anxiously remorseful voice he always had when talking to Blackarachnia, only for her to bare her fangs at him.

"How many times do I have to tell you that that person no longer exists before you actually _understand_, Autobot?" She hissed, disdain dripping from her voice. "Just hand over your present –Primus knows why you even _have _one for us in the first place or where you even got the _idea_ that we would _want _something from _you_- and be done with it. I have more important things to do."

"Like what?" The little annoying yellow one grumbled to himself. "Sit in your cave and eat bugs?"

Blackarachnia hissed at him, her spider-legs raised up menacingly above her shoulders. He yelped and scrambled to hide behind his mountainous green friend.

The reserved black ninjabot stepped forwards, holding a large, garishly wrapped box in his hands like it was a pile of sludge. Wordlessly he handed it over, and the female Starscream stepped forwards to grab it.

"'Snot like it was our idea, anyways," The little yellow one groused. "That psycho Starscream left it for us, telling us to give it to you."

The Autobots didn't miss the way the femmes' optics widened and they looked at each other in surprise, before matching evil grins uncurled on their face. The female Starscream began to chuckle hoarsely under her breath and Blackarachnia was suddenly in a much better mood.

"I assume by your reactions that you know what's in there?" The ninjabot asked. "Starscream seemed very amused about it when he was talking about giving gifts to Megatron yesterday."

"So _that's _where he's been hiding." The female clone mused, tossing the box from hand to hand and still grinning savagely. "Well, thanks for the gift, Autodorks. We'll be seeing you."

And the two femmes took off, cackling madly as they went and leaving behind five very confused Autobots.

* * *

All of the Decepticons gathered in the Command Room to see what the Autobots had given them. By now, everyone but Megatron and Lugnut knew that the gift was actually from _Starscream _and not the Autobots. (They had neglected to tell Lugnut because he was _Lugnut, _and what Lugnut knew, Megatron knew, and that would take all the fun out of it.)

"Did the Autobots give any reason as to why they thought we would _possibly _want a gift from them?" Megatron said, mostly to himself, as he looked at the bright orange and red paper and the optic burning yellow ribbon in the same sort of way the ninjabot had.

"No, my lord." Blackarachnia said, suspiciously not bitter or angry or sullen like she normally was.

Megatron sent her a warning glare and ripped the top off of the box without any ceremony. He stared at its contents with a dull sort of resigned surprise, and the others crowded around, trying to get a look inside.

The femmes started laughing first, and were soon joined by Blitzwing and the Constructicons. Lugnut looked personally offended and it was still in debate whether or not Soundwave had emotions, and the other clones were each reacting as they normally did to everything: Thundercracker was sulking because no one was paying attention to _him _and his ego was suffering, Skywarp was already cowering because he knew that soon Megatron was going to snap out of his shock and start shooting things, the Liar was lying left and right, and the Suck-Up was alternating between sucking up to the Autobots, Starscream, Megatron, and whoever else he saw.

Megatron crushed the box between his hands and eight little plastic Megatron toys and a scrap of paper fell to the ground. Skywarp immediately bolted and the rest of the Decepticons quickly followed suit.

* * *

He didn't know how much more he could take of this.

It wasn't just the figurines (though Primus knew how much he _despised _those things); it was the fact that Starscream was using them to show (remind) them all just _why _he was Second in Command.

Not once but_ four times _in the past nine days, Starscream had made it into Megatron's personal quarters undetected and had placed the things _without waking Megatron. _He'd put them in his oil supply, among his personal items, and _on Megatron himself. _

Starscream had shown that could _easily _poison his fuel, booby trap his room, or even just kill him as he recharged, and that the only reason he hadn't was because he was apparently having too much fun creeping his leader out with the figurines.

Megatron didn't know whether to be annoyed, concerned, or respectful of that.

Megatron's nerves were frayed, trying to predict where the next strike would come from while also trying to plan the spacebridge and brooding over Shockwave's deteriorating situation on Cybertron. It was a sign of how bad things were that he wasn't actually enjoying what would under normal circumstances be an entertaining battle of wits with his Second. With the spacebridge so close to completion and Shockwave's beginning to draw suspicion on Cybertron and events coming to a head like they currently were, however, he needed Starscream _here _at his side, not off playing with his creepy little dolls.

Feeling the beginnings of a monstrous processor-ache coming on, Megatron walked towards the Command Center with the intent of calling Shockwave to see if the spy had uncovered anything new.

He was the first and only one in there, and he moved towards the main screen, kicking aside the charred remained of the tiny tree wreathed with figurines that had been "mysteriously" left there two days prior as he went.

Shockwave had nothing new to report other then that suspicions were getting stronger and soon he would either have to frame another Autobot or bail out before he was caught.

Megatron rubbed his forehead and reflected that (as much as he was loathe to admit it), he _really _needed Starscream here right now.

But his pride refused to let him give in, weakly protesting that he'd almost outlasted the Seeker (only three more days!) and reminding him how insufferable Starscream would be if he won this conflict between them.

Huffing a sigh through his vents, Megatron turned towards his throne with the intention of brooding there until the others arrived, only to stop short and groan.

"Oh, for spark's sake."

Nine figurines of varying shape and size (but still all of him) sat on the seat of his throne, glaring at him as if they were daring him to try and move them.

His pride would take a light beating, but enough was enough.

Megatron turned back to the screen and hailed the frequency that Starscream had oh, so thoughtfully left in his present of the day before.

* * *

The next day, Starscream was back in the base, as smug as ever. Even more so, actually.

Blackarachnia gave Megatron a withering look, then threw her hands up and stalked over to where the Constructicons were still dutifully working on the Space Bridge, muttering "Unbelievable," to herself as she went.

The female clone chuckled and grinned, shaking her head at her Creator/brother's overly smug mood as he happily ordered his clones about as they carried in and arranged the materials the Constructicons needed in their work.

Blitzwing was having another conversation with himself: his Random face was loudly and petulantly complaining how disappointed it was in how there would now be no more toys and presents and over how no one had given _him _a gift; The hotheaded face was threatening to march over and punch that smug grin off of Starscream's face if he didn't stop it right this instant; and the Icy face was dispassionately saying how he was just relieved that at least their leaders had stopped fighting for now and that now things could go back to as normal as they ever got around the Decepticon base.

And as for Starscream himself, he just sat there and gloated.

* * *

**A/N: **Merry Christmas, Oni-Gil! I hope you liked it. I certainly do. In fact, you could say that I think IT'S STARSCREAMTASTIC. (Sorry, couldn't help myself :P) Did you get the allusions to the Seekerbirds? I saw the opportunity to add it and I went for it. XD And if anyone gets where Blitzwing's joke about Starscream trying to take Megatron's head off is from, I will be very happy.

This is the first thing I've written that's actually gotten posted in nearly a full year, so I'm a little shaky and still getting back on my feet. Reviews would be much appreciated!


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